


Best Seats in the House

by little_alien_duck



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: F/M, I just love lighting design, also I guess it's technically a college au, tech theater au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-04
Updated: 2019-10-04
Packaged: 2020-11-23 20:11:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20895434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/little_alien_duck/pseuds/little_alien_duck
Summary: Short AU about college student and lighting designer extraordinaire B'Elanna Torres and her assistant Tom Paris.





	Best Seats in the House

“B’Elanna, it’s over. You did it. You can stop scaring Harry now.” 

Harry, from where he’s trapped at the light board, shoots Tom a look that’s half gratitude, half annoyance. They’re all crammed in the booth, B’Elanna and Tom and Harry and Tuvok, the stage manager who looks about twenty seconds away from kicking B’Elanna and Tom out himself. The booth is well past capacity, and house opens in fifteen minutes. 

It’s opening night, and as the lighting designer, B’Elanna’s job technically ended with the last dress rehearsal. Tom, her assistant, hasn’t been able to convince her of that yet. 

Instead, she’s lecturing Harry, the freshman board operator, about things he definitely already knows. Even if he didn’t, the lighting professor called him a prodigy, so Tom is sure that between Harry and Tuvok, the show will run just fine without B’Elanna breathing down their necks.

“I just need to make sure Harry knows about-”

“B’Elanna, I’m sure he already does,” Tom says in his most calming voice. He can see it almost working. “Come on, I saved you a seat.” 

B’Elanna smiles at that, a very much against her will smile, but Tom will take what he can get. Knowing that he’s pushing his luck, he grabs her hand and leads her not to the door which would take them down to the house, but to the glorified ladder which leads to the catwalk. 

“Tom, where are we going?” B’Elanna asks suspiciously, but she has a pretty good idea of the answer. 

She shouldn’t be staying to see the show at all. She’s got an 8 AM class tomorrow and a paper to finish up, but she worked hard on this one and Kathryn directed it and Tom specifically asked her to stay, and as much as she pretends she doesn’t, she likes spending time with Tom.

He gives her his infamous cocky grin, the one that he knows girls on campus talk about after he’s walked away. B’Elanna shakes her head, but she doesn’t pull her hand from his like she might have done before he was assigned to be her assistant designer and she actually got to know him. 

He’s goofy, as it turns out. Tom Paris is a big dork who likes history and vintage cars and loves to brag about Naomi, the girl he babysits. He’s sweet. 

The biggest shock was finding out that he does have a work ethic hidden under his veneer of not caring. The two of them spent quite a few late nights wrestling the shitty lighting instruments the school has had since before they were born into a functional plot. It was just the two of them on those nights, covered in sweat and grime and filled with more caffeine than should legally be allowed. Tom didn’t complain once. B’Elanna had worked with veteran designers who made a bigger fuss than he did. 

Tom leads them to a spot on the catwalk that is utterly indistinguishable from every other spot on the catwalk, except that his backpack is there. 

“Before you say anything, I checked, and this is the best view in the whole house,” Tom explains, sitting down so that his back is resting against the piping. 

It doesn’t look uncomfortable, so B’Elanna sits down next to him.

However, she can’t help herself from saying, “This can’t be the best seat in the house because we’re not technically in the house. We’re on the catwalk.”

“Okay, fine then, I won’t give you the opening night gift I was going to give you,” Tom says, but he’s still smiling. 

B’Elanna just raises an eyebrow, knowing that he’ll crack. Though, she’s not sure she wants whatever his “opening night gift” will be. 

It turns out to be a slightly warm can of beer he’d stashed in his backpack. Kathryn must have bought it for him because Tom is a junior who won’t turn twenty one until the spring. It’s late fall now. The first of the snow is on the ground outside, despite it being sweltering in the theater.

“Thanks,” B’Elanna says, cracking it open. If she’s going to drink it at all, she needs to open it now because they can definitely be heard from the house, and the doors open in five minutes. 

“Cheers.” Tom lightly taps the side of her can with his own, and they drink in silence. 

B’Elanna feels the tension in her back loosen slightly as she leans against the metal piping that will certainly leave stripes of dust on her tank top. She was wearing a nicer shirt for opening night, but between the heat and the impulse to retie some messy cabling, she stripped down to her tank top an hour ago. 

She’s sitting close enough to Tom that she can feel the heat coming off of his arms on her own, though they aren’t quite touching. 

The house lights dim. Kathryn stands on the stage and tells people how long intermission will be, where the emergency exit is. As the director, it’s not really her job, but they didn’t have anyone else to do it. And anyway, Kathryn is bursting with pride to tell people to enjoy the show she directed. 

The show begins. B’Elanna and Tom sit on the catwalk and sip their beer. They’ve seen the show too many times to count, but the jokes are funny again now that there’s an audience laughing with them. 

The lighting is perfect, and B’Elanna is proud. 

Tom doesn’t try to hold her hand or put his arm around her shoulders. 

B’Elanna realizes that she might be disappointed when the show ends and their arms are still almost but not quite touching. 

He tells her what a good job she did, and B’Elanna can tell he means it. 

They’re standing outside the theater. Everyone else has left. Kathryn was the last one, telling everyone how proud she was of them. She hugged every member of the cast and crew, big bear hugs that knocked the air out of their chests. 

Now it’s just B’Elanna and Tom. 

“You did a really great job, B’Elanna. I’ll see you soon, I guess.” Tom turns to go. He looks a little less confident than he usually does, a little unsure. 

“Tom?”

He spins around so fast it’s a wonder he doesn’t fall on his ass. 

“Yeah?” 

Before B’Elanna can lose her nerve she kisses him on the cheek. It’s light and almost friendly, but Tom smiles. His real smile, the goofy one he does when he thinks people aren’t looking.

B’Elanna likes that smile. 

“Goodnight Tom,” she says, and she turns to go. 

She’ll text him tomorrow. Find some innocuous reason that they need to be back in the theater. Maybe they’ll stay for the show again.

He had found the best seats in the house after all. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed the fic! If you also like TNG I have a rewrite of Q-pid I'm currently posting (haven't abandoned it, I'm working on chapter 2 now!). Thank you for reading!


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